


Suitporn

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Clothes, Dressing, M/M, Suitporn, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 01:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20106775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: Arthur loves his clothes. So does Eames.





	Suitporn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).

> For my dear friend Amy, whose love of suits, Alexander McQueen and Arthur in McQueen suits matches my own.
> 
> To see the suit, look at the endnote

A small sound escapes Arthur’s mouth as he stands naked in front of his closet. A sound of need. Of lust.  
He reaches out a hand, runs it across the sleeves of the many jackets ranged there: plain, checked, striped; black, charcoal, deepest midnight blue, settling on his pinstriped black Alexander McQueen.

It’s enough to awaken the memory of the first time he put it on in private. Stepping into the severely narrow pants, settling the jacket onto his shoulders, turning to the mirror, studying the insects flitting up his body.

The thrill of the first time Eames saw him in it. How Eames’ face lit up with delight as Arthur turned and displayed the surprise that could not be guessed at from behind.

The thrill of Eames taking him out of the suit. How he swept his hands down the lapels, pausing to dance his fingers across the silver threads of the moths’ wings. How carefully he unknotted Arthur’s black tie, leaving it loose round his neck. How delicately he opened each button on his shirt, pushing the cloth back under the wings of the jacket to give himself access to Arthur’s chest. How he sucked softly at Arthur’s skin as it was revealed. How he knelt before Arthur to unfasten the pants, tugging them down to constrict his thighs while he dropped his mouth to Arthur’s groin, his hot breath dampening his briefs, until Arthur, his hips jerking, had gasped: “Not in the suit!” and Eames had laughed and taken Arthur’s boots off, lifting each foot, taking off his socks, his strong thumbs pressing into the arches of his feet. How he’d taken the pants off, finally. How he’d stood up again, bringing his hands back to Arthur’s chest, pushing them under the jacket, easing it off his shoulders — and deftly catching it before it could slip and fall, smiling at the look of mild panic in Arthur’s eyes. Leaving him in the opened shirt as he pressed him towards the bed.

Eames comes into the room as Arthur stands there, his fingers caressing the fine wool of the suit, feeling the slight stiffness of the silver threads.

“Another man would rent a movie, Arthur, but you just stand in front of your closet.”

Arthur turns to him. “You know it’s not the suits, don’t you?” He smiles. “Not just the suits.”

“Yes. Get dressed.”

So Arthur gets dressed, slowly, as Eames leans against the doorframe, his eyes following as Arthur hides more and more of himself, until finally he comes to stand in front of Eames.

“You can unwrap me now.”

A small sound escapes Eames’ mouth. A sound of need. Of lust.

**Author's Note:**

>   



End file.
